


Josephine

by only_freakin_donuts



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Free Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_freakin_donuts/pseuds/only_freakin_donuts
Summary: A Character Study. Jo's had many names throughout her lifetime. She wasn't allowed to keep those names. Josephine Karev was her favourite, and it was hers to keep. Until it wasn't anymore.
Relationships: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson Karev
Comments: 15
Kudos: 27





	Josephine

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I was done writing Grey's fic, and then they decided to mess with Jo Wilson. Not on my watch! Check out my tumblr @only-freakin-sunflowers for my old Grey's stuff. And check out my Jo/Jolex playlist on Spotify here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2tKzOhU719XFK02fCoGzpl?si=Pb0wPqDARt-wQ3kK-s8WNQ
> 
> "And so, here we go bluebird, back to the sky on your own / Oh, let him go bluebird / Ready to fly, you and I / Here we go."

She was born Brooke, just Brooke.  
Well, actually, her birth certificate bared her mother’s last name,  
the only thing her mother gave her, besides a kiss on the forehead before walking away,  
but it never mattered.  
She never carried any name but Brooke with her.  
She could only fit so much in the duffel bag she took from foster home to foster home with her,  
be it tied to the handle of her carseat, over a social worker’s shoulder,  
or between her own grubby, toddler hands.  
The bag was only big enough for one heavy piece of history,  
or she may drop it, lose it, leave it somewhere accidentally and never be able to get it back.  
This was the one piece of herself that was allowed to go wherever she went.  
_Brooke._

Over the years, the families that loved her enough would lend her their name,  
and they became her instant favourites.  
They cared enough to share something that was theirs with her.  
She could write it on her school tests, and on the front page of her diary,  
and for a little while, she could feel like she belonged.  
They always took it back though,  
they put it out on the curb when they put her and her duffel bag out there.  
She waited for her case worker to come and collect her,  
while her old name, along with all those old arithmetic tests and diary pages,  
waited for the trash collectors.  
She felt like she was waiting for the trash collector, too,  
because that’s what she must be to keep getting thrown away like this.  
She must be trash too.  
_Brooke Andrews, Brooke O’Connell, Brooke Wellerstein, Brooke Trash._

And they said you were what you ate, so when she was a dumpster diving teenager,  
waiting out behind Domino's Pizza for scraps, she must’ve been trash.  
When she snuck into school in the morning to wash the smell off her skin, she must’ve been trash.  
Until one day a man with expensive leather shoes came along,  
and swept her off her worn-out sneakered feet.  
He was the type who could actually afford Princeton, without the full ride scholarship.  
He came from the type of family that spent summers in the Hamptons and winters in Aspen,  
he lived a life she knew nothing of.  
He was willing to give her a full ride to that too, though.  
One night, while she was wearing satin and pearls, sinking in a glass of Sauvignon Blanc,  
he got down on one knee.  
He offered her a sign of love, a last name and all that went with it.  
How magical it all felt, like she was the princess she’d always wanted to be.  
_Brooke Stadler._

Then, the clock struck midnight, and the dream turned to a nightmare.  
It was not always sunny in a rich man’s world, not like ABBA made her believe,  
it was not always Sunny with the Stadlers.  
How wrong she was to believe her life would suddenly be better once she was married,  
how foolish and naive.  
She always wondered why a man like Paul would ever truly love a girl like her,  
now she knew he never did.  
Ragdolls were tough, though, tougher than their porcelain peers,  
and Josephine Alice Wilson was a name fit for a tough girl.  
With two black eyes she could see a whole world ahead to make her own,  
if she only wrapped her fists up and got ready to fight for it.  
Josephine Alice Wilson was the name of a phoenix, damnit, a _phoenix,_  
She would never need to pluck a name off another person now, because she had her own,  
and nobody could take it away from her.  
_Josephine Alice Wilson._

Holding onto something so tight and for so long was tiring, though.  
She hadn’t realized until the day Paul took his last breath,  
and she got to take her first full breath in years.  
She pinched herself, she pinched herself again, she pinched herself one more time.  
He was gone for good this time and he could not hurt her or anyone else anymore.  
She hadn’t truly observed how much the memory of him weighed on her chest,  
the thought that he was always just about to catch up with her,  
a weather warning for a tornado that was always just about to touch down.  
She didn’t think about that portion of her past very often in fear that she’d miss it,  
miss that version of herself she left laying in Paul’s sheets.  
The feeling that was building up in her lungs right now, she recognized it to be grief.  
Grief certainly not for him, not even for them, but for _her._  
So when Meredith asked what name she wanted to commemorate her achievement under,  
it felt only natural to give that girl a graceful nod.  
_Josephine Brooke Wilson._

Falling in love with Alex took her by surprise,  
came up behind her and robbed her blind, but in the best of ways.  
Holding hands with him felt like reaching out and pressing her palm against a mirror,  
they were two halves of the same broken bone.  
He saw her splinter into a thousand pieces, a thousand times,  
and he never thought any less of her because of it.  
And he _stayed_ , after everything, he _stayed._  
He knew every detail about herself that she deemed ugly, and he argued that they were beautiful.  
And at the end of the day, his were the only set of arms she ever felt safe enough to fall asleep in,  
after her face hurt from laughing so much and her heart felt like it was going to burst.  
He was her exception.  
He took her hand, her heart, and threw in his last name too, she accepted without any doubt.  
This was the last time she’d get a new name, this one was hers to keep forever.  
_Josephine Karev._

Oh, no, it wasn’t so.  
One morning she woke up, and he was gone.  
His letter followed weeks later, and opening that envelope shut the door on her and Alex.  
_He left her, how could he do that?_  
Back to one plate in the sink after dinner for one, one loofa in the shower, one pillow on the bed.  
Nothing ever stayed, not even Alex, who promised he would never leave.  
He left, and he took his love with him,  
leaving her with no air left in her lungs and no last name.  
She was back to being alone with the one person who’d followed her around all these years,  
born again in each new city, with each new sunrise.  
She hoped underneath all the changing coats, she was still under there somewhere.  
_Josephine._


End file.
